Being Anya
by Admiral
Summary: A day in the life of America's ExDemon Sweetheart. R&R please!


**Disclaimer:** Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

**Author's Notes:** I have many things to say, and while you might be tempted to just skip to the story you might want to read these notes to get a little perspective on what you are about to read.

First off, let me warn you that I've seen maybe six whole episodes of BTVS so I guarantee there will be inaccuracies in the story. MysticStar helped me out with a little research but any screwups are all my fault since I'm not the best student. Feel free to nitpick in your reviews. Next, this is the first time I've ever written a fanfic in first person perspective, making this is my first "Thoughts"-type fic.

Not scared off? Okay, so you're probably asking yourself "Then why did he write this?" If you're familiar with my usual stuff, you'll notice that this fic is a definite change. Usually, I like throwing massive armed forces at each other until one side beats the snot out of the other. Much as I enjoy it, even I need a break from it once and a while. Writing this is like a little genre vacation for me. That's one reason.

Then there's the one thing about the few episodes I've seen that I've never failed to enjoy: Anya. I like Anya. A lot. A whole lot. I love that whole cute, self-possessed, thousand-year-old demon-out-of-water thing more than the slaying, the drama, the lesbian witches (Okay, maybe not more than the lesbian witches) or anything else about the show. She's not on-screen nearly enough as far as I'm concerned. So, Anya-haters, the following story is a monument to her greatness. Save yourself the trouble and just go ahead and flame me now.

My imagination tends to run all the time. The few stories I set down on paper are a mere fraction of the dozens I mentally write, review and discard constantly. One day after discovering my love for Anya I had a fleeting thought of what an episode of BTVS might be like if it were told from Anya's perspective. I mentioned this to MS and she said I should try to write it. Not a big fan of Anya herself, she said she'd read and review it with an open mind.

All I ask of you now is that you day the same. If you haven't already gone to it or gone to another story on the page, my work is just ahead. Go on ahead and enjoy.

And if you clicked on this expecting my usual stuff...I'm so sorry. I promise I'll get back to "blowing things up real good" soon.

* * *

**Being Anya**

**by Darrin Colbourne**

I take one last look at myself in the mirror, just to make sure everything is in its proper place. Eyebrows plucked to just the right shape, the proper color and amount of eye shadow, a hint of blush to highlight the cheekbones, the perfect lipstick with a touch of gloss, hair full and light and just wavy enough. I smile, proud of myself for once again highlighting my devastating beauty.

After my inspection I let out a little sigh, mourning for the one aspect of being a demon that I really miss. With the right training any demon can look any way she wants, with a gesture, or a wink or a quiet spell. A wave of the arms and POOF--instant gorgeous! Human bodies are so high maintenance. Every day you've got to waste eight hours of a perfectly good night sleeping just to make sure you don't go nuts. Then just when you've begun to enjoy the sleeping the alarm wakes you up. You have to trudge off to the bathroom, stand under the hot waterfall and scrape off all the dirt from the previous day, drown your hair in that vile stuff they call shampoo (And just between you and me, that funny little lady in the commercials with the accent is a fraud! I have yet to see a bunch of cute guys jump out and start singing "She's got the Urge"!), torture your innocent legs with the latest sadistic tool, be it wax, razors or the latest new age "hair-be-gone" scam. And don't even get me started on that whole..."Going 'Potty'" thing--Ugh!! And all that's just the prep work!

So why do I do it? Why don't I just off myself, march right into the old boss's lair and beg for my old job back?

The pounding on the closed bathroom door reminds me. "Anya, honey, I know you're doing very important things in there, but the guys at work usually like me to get down there before the building is finished. It sort of helps to justify giving me a paycheck!"

I just melt when I hear that voice. He's my Romeo, my confidant, my best friend in the whole universe--a friend who's not-so-bad in the sack, let me tell you. Of course I have to do all of this for my Xander. He's such a wonderful, loving person that he deserves to have a fiancee that's always charming, witty and radiant. And he's darn lucky I find him special enough to oblige. I would never have gone through so much trouble for the Bashaw of Tripoli when I was one of his harem, and he controlled most of Persia when I married him! (Of course, I only stayed long enough to rend his soul into a thousand pieces and deliver him to three different levels of Purgatory, but he was still a good catch for a human.)

I open the door and step out of the bathroom flashing my pearly white smile. "All done, sweetie." I say, noticing that my grin has the desired effect. Xander's face softens from "really grimace-y" to "just slightly annoyed". I don't let on, but the concept of the grin never ceases to amaze me. I wonder if Humans realize they're the only animals on Earth that consider baring their fangs a sign of friendship.

"Sorry I took so long." I add, still smiling. I manage to get a small, closed-mouth smile back from my sweetheart, indicating that I've managed once again to avoid a long stay in "Bad Karmaville".

"That's okay, Anya." Xander says. "I'm sure my colleagues will understand that the time I could have spent reviewing the blueprints for the construction of the tenth and eleventh floors was lost to a worthy cause."

I keep smiling as he pecks me on the cheek and goes into the bathroom, not quite sure if he's complimenting me or not. He closes the door before I think to ask, and I decide it probably wasn't important either way. I start to get dressed as I hear the shower turn on.

The strangled, incensed way Xander screams "Anya!!!" reminds me that I should have told him that all the hot water was gone again. For some reason he doesn't like that to be a surprise.

* * *

Ah, morning! A beautiful Sunnydale day follows a typically dreary and demon-filled Sunnydale night. I'm glad Buffy decided to give working in the store another try, but since she had an unusually harrowing patrol I gave her the day off. I thought it was the least I could do. She's been having a particularly rough time lately. I don't think she's quite gotten over being dead and buried, then being alive and buried, then being alive and unburied but broke. Stuff like that can really take a lot out of a girl.

Oh, well. I won't be alone all day. Tara promised she'd come by the store after classes and give me a hand. Besides, I like being alone in the Magic Box sometimes. I haven't had time to truly bond with my latest acquisition. There's no more rewarding feeling than the joy of putting the key in the lock of your very own enterprise and opening it up for the new business day. I'm glad I became human in a country like this instead of, say, medieval Prussia. I mean, the Prussians were decent enough guys but their concept of entrepreneurship was "Have Bludgeon--Will Travel."

A half-hour after I arrive I have the store ready to receive customers. I'm a little disappointed when I don't see a line around the block waiting for me to switch the sign from "Closed" to "Open" in the window, but I open up anyway, sure that it is only a matter of time before magic-hungry masses beat a path to my door. My well-founded optimism is rewarded minutes later! Okay...it's only one customer, but she looks rich and curious--the mark of the perfect sales target.

Of course, maybe I should curb my natural enthusiasm. Giles once mentioned that the way I "pitch" a sale was akin to unarmed robbery--as if a common criminal could ever match my numbers!

The woman is taller than me, raven hair, blue eyes, very pretty and stylishly dressed. A socialite or hometown girl made good, possibly, visiting old friends or family and looking for a memento from her trip to a quaint little town. I'm just guessing, of course, but her motivations are important in determining just what items to steer her to.

"Welcome to the Magic Box," I say, flashing my smile. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The woman seems to notice me for the first time and smiles back. "Actually I was just browsing," she says. "You have an interesting store here."

"It is nice, isn't it?" I say. "It's been in my family for years." Okay, it's a lie, but it's only a little one and it's for a good cause. Everyone loves to shop in a mom-and-pop operation, right?

"Do you sell curios here?" She asks as she strolls and looks around. "Like statuettes and gothic charms?"

"We have several." I say, running through the inventory in my mind to verify that I was at least close to being right. "Looking for a conversation piece? Or perhaps some knick-knacks to use as decorations for Halloween?"

"A conversation piece would be about right," she says as she heads farther into the store, "something to make my friends sit up and take notice. Something like...that!"

It takes a moment for me to realize that we've gravitated to a small corner in the back of the shop. She's staring hard at one of Giles's old displays, several elaborate statues and carvings set up in a multi-tiered case. They're beautiful pieces, and I'd always thought they'd fetch a beautiful price, but Giles would never let me sell any of them. I assumed he had his reasons, but I never bothered to ask. Well, they're mine to do with as I please now.

I check the front to make sure no one else has walked in, then turn my attention back to the socialite. She's picked up a large carving of a bat in flight. It's a real sinister looking thing, wings spread, fangs out and mouth gaping wide, done in painstaking detail. I think I named him "Otto" once in a fit of cuteness that I've since gotten over.

"How much for this piece?" She asks with a wide grin, and for a moment I panic. Since I was never able to sell anything from this display, it had never occurred to me to try to appraise and price the items on it, and I haven't gotten around to doing it since I got the store. I'll have to appraise it on the fly and hope I'm not gouging her...too much.

"This is one of my personal favorites," I say, smiling and trying to buy time as I examine "Otto" in her hands. "It's very old...commissioned in the 1800's by a Romanian Prince fascinated with the legend of Dracula." I congratulate myself for thinking fast on my feet. I've just come up with a story that will help set the price range of the statue, a nice big price range. And, hey, it could be true. Royal families always buy the oddest things, and Romanians in the Nineteenth Century had little better to do than buy weird stuff.

"I simply must have this." She says. "I'd give anything for it."

I go a little weak in the knees and wonder idly if you can be arrested for unarmed robbery if you never touch the victim and the victim is offering you the opportunity to clean her out. I test her to see how thoroughly I have her hooked as I regain my composure. "Well, it is rather expensive. I really never expected to sell it here. I was thinking of taking it to an auction house..."

"No! Don't do that, please! I'm on a very rigid shopping budget so there's a limit to what I can spend, but I can probably go as high as thirty-thousand..."

What's that word Xander uses when he thinks he's about to come into a lot of money? Kachang? Kochong?

"...maybe even fifty-thousand."

Oh, yes: Ka-ching!!!

"Well," I say as I lead her to the meeting table, "let's discuss how you'll be paying for your purchase."

My first customer must have been a good luck charm. The Magic Box has one of it's busiest days since it was opened. I was genuinely glad to see Tara walk in in the early afternoon, and together we presided over the tail end of a record sales day. Xander and Willow show up just as we're locking up. I run over to my man, anxious to share my amazingly good karma with him. We give each other a big hug and I plant a big kiss on him, subtly promising lots more fun when we get home. Willow and Tara are much more subdued, but they do share a hug and a brief kiss.

"Wow!" Xander says. "I guess someone had a better day than me. Not that that would have been difficult..."

"Rough day, honey?" I say, practicing for when we're married.

"I spent a good part of the day tracking down a shipment of rivets we were supposed to get two days ago. Some genius sent it to the wrong state. I dunno, I suppose 'California' and 'Wyoming' look the same in some other language, but I thought we submitted the purchase order in English. Anyway, that was the highlight of my day. It pretty much went downhill from there. So, what's been happening here?"

"It was wonderful!" I say, unable to contain my sheer giddiness. "We made an absolute killing! The good kind, I mean, where people give you money for stuff like they'll die if they don't get it, not like we actually killed somebody...although there was one old man who looked like he'd have a heart attack after I quoted the price of a book on ancient myths. Anyway, it was a big day for magic products!"

"She's right," Tara says. "I've never seen so many people come in here during the day. I thought Anya was having a special sale or something."

"Really?" Willow says. "I can't imagine Anya having a 'Blue Light Special'."

"You're darn right!" I say. "I'd never do anything so tacky...well, not unless I could dress it up a little. Still, today I didn't need anything like that. I think it was all because of this woman who came in today..."

Just as I'm about to relate my tale of the socialite Buffy walks in, dressed in casual clothes and carrying a large shoulder bag. It's easy to tell when Buffy's ready to go on patrol. The bag probably has all of her bad-guy-killing stuff in it, like the stakes, the crossbows, blades, little Holy Water grenades, various magic talismans. Every time I see her with it I'm struck by the thought that some women agonize over carrying pepper spray in their purses.

"Hey, guys." Buffy says. "Giles is going to be staying with Dawn tonight so we can get started any time. What's happening?"

"Anya was just telling us about her day." Xander says. "Apparently my little business mogul is well on her way to being one of the Fortune 500."

I smile when I hear that. "His little business mogul". It has a nice ring.

"What's that mean? Did she acquire Microsoft while I had the day off?"

You know, if it weren't for the fact that everyone would be really upset--and she kills demons in her spare time--I'd knock her block off. "Hah, hah." I say as I go to lock the front door. "You can be a real party-pooper sometimes, Buffy. You should be happy that this shop is developing a following. If I can't make a going concern of it I'll have to sell it, and then you won't have a base of operations for all your slaying and slayer-training."

"All right, Anya," Buffy says, "I'm sorry. Go on and finish your story."

I feel a little better so I smile and get ready to start again, but this time Tara interrupts me. "Anya," she calls from the back, "there's something missing from this case."

I look back and realize what she's talking about. "Nothing's missing from there. I sold one of the items this morning."

Willow looks back at Tara, then at me. "You sold something from that display?" She says.

"That's what I'm getting at." I say, exasperated. "This woman came into the store today..."

Willow isn't listening. She goes over to join her girlfriend, saying: "Isn't that the display of stuff that Giles always said never to sell?"

"Yes, it is," I say, anticipating what's coming, "but the Magic Box, unless you missed the handover ceremony, is under new management, and the new management--namely moi--saw no problem with parting with the stuff in that display."

"Yeah, but Anya, he must have had a reason for not wanting to sell these things. Did you research them to see if they were enchanted or cursed or anything?"

"Well, I didn't have a whole lot of time what with a potential buyer waving her 5-figures in my face! Besides, that one sale probably put this place in the black for at least the whole quarter. I would have been nuts not to go through with it!"

Willow continues to ignore me. "What's missing?" She asks Tara.

"A big bat. You remember, the big ugly thing that always looked like it was going to pounce on you?"

I take that personally. "Otto" wasn't ugly, just misunderstood.

"I remember that thing." Buffy says. "Geez, I can't picture what kind of idiot would want to buy it."

"She wasn't an idiot." I say.

"Oh, yeah? How much did you get her to pay for it?"

I think about it for a minute. "Okay, fine, but no laws were broken and she didn't sprout fangs or wings or hiss when she took possession of it. I really don't think we have anything to worry about."

"Well, how can you be sure?" Tara says. "Without researching it, I mean."

I'm two seconds away from telling the little rhymes-with-what-she-is what she can do with her research when Xander speaks up. "You know, there's a simple answer to this problem. Anya, did Giles ever tell you why he never wanted to sell those trinkets?"

"No," I say, "he just said those were for display purposes and he'd rather not part with them."

"Okay, well, if they were really dangerous he'd've probably locked them up in a vault or something. Why don't we just ask him now why he never sold them?"

Buffy walks over to the phone. "I have his number." She says as she starts dialing. She notices that we're all staring at her as we wait for her to talk with her Watcher. "One ringy-dingy, Two ringy-dingy...hey Dawnie, it's Buffy. Is Giles around? Could you put him on? Thanks...Hi, Giles. Listen, gotta question for you. We're all at the shop right now and, well, this is gonna seem silly but we were all lookin' at that really ugly bat you've got in the case in the back and we were wondering why you never unloaded the thing on some poor unsuspecting stranger...Oh, c'mon, you can tell me...What was that?...Uh-huh...Uh-huh...Okay, so why bother putting them out at all? Why not just lock them up or something?...Mm-hmm...Really...No, of course not...Oh?...Yeah, that is interesting...Okay, well, how's everything there?...Good. We'll talk more later. Bye."

She'd been as pleasant as I'd ever seen her on the phone, which makes it even more frightening when she turns to me and looks at me like I'm Dracula tied to a crucifix with a bull's-eye painted on my bare chest. I've seen that look before. I usually get it after I've done or said something particularly stupid.

"What did Giles say?" Willow says.

"Oh, not much," Buffy says, "just that our enterprising little ex-demon here sold a Touchstone."

With that word, Willow and Tara give me the look, and as I realize what I've done, at least now I can understand why.

Xander raises his hand and says, "Excuse me. Non-mystical person in the room. What's a touchstone?"

"Well, Xander," Buffy says, "according to my research, a Touchstone is an object that helps a mystical being focus his or her powers."

"It's like a divining rod, or a familiar," Tara says. "It doesn't have any power on it's own but a witch or a demon that possesses it will have his or her powers augmented and refined just by channeling those powers through it."

"It can be charmed or cursed," Willow says, "just like any normal object, but that tends to negate or narrow it's ability to augment its owner's powers."

"Funny you should mention that, Wills." Buffy says. "Giles told me an interesting story about the bat. Seems the guy who sold it to him said it was charmed. Apparently, it was carved by a Satanist in the 1930's who wanted to use it to control Vampires. He cast a spell on it that made it sort of a Vampire remote, but it never worked for him because, well, he was just an ordinary loser, not a mystical one."

I look over at my Xander. This is usually the part where he comes to my rescue before things get out of hand. Imagine my surprise when I see him giving me the same look as the others.

"You sold somebody a statue that can control Vampires??!!" He yells at me, and I realize I'm screwed. He's using his "cold shower" voice. I'll have to defend myself.

"Well, why didn't he keep it someplace safe?" I say. "Why did he leave it out where just anybody can see it?"

"Funny you should ask that, Anya, but I asked him that same question. He said that he thought that the Touchstones gave the store 'atmosphere', and since they were harmless it would be all right if he used the--What did he call it?--The 'Sirloin Something Principle' to keep an eye on them. Besides, most of the objects, especially the bat, were so ugly that no one ever spent more than a second or two looking at them and no one was ever tempted to buy one, and he was never interested in selling them. In fact, he said only one person was ever tempted to sell any of the Touchstones. Let's see...who was that person again? Oh, yes. Her name would be 'Anya'!"

At this moment I feel very small. I try to come up with something, anything that I can say to alleviate the situation, but I can only think to mumble "'Purloined Letter Principle'."

"Excuse me?" Buffy says.

"What Giles said. When you hide something in plain sight, you're using the 'Purloined Letter Principle'. It's taken from one of Poe's stories, The Purloined Letter. 'Purloined' means stolen, you see, and the cops in the story are looking for a letter that's evidence in a case, and the guy who stole it puts it in a new envelope and puts it on a rack with his other mail, figuring no one would notice one more innocuous unopened envelope in the midst of everything else, hence it was 'hidden in plain sight'. Y'know, I used to have a copy of the first magazine it was printed in, but with my old life and all it was hard to keep."

"Too bad," Xander says. "It would probably be worth a fortune today. You'd be independently wealthy. Probably wouldn't need to stay in Sunnydale, keep up the Magic Box...or sell statues that control Vampires to complete strangers!!"

Now he's being unfair. "I didn't know the stupid thing could control Vampires, Xander!"

Buffy comes over and looks me in the eye. "How did she pay for the bat, Anya?"

"Gold card." I say.

"And you have a copy of the sales receipt, I assume?" I nod. "Good. Willow, find out where our bat-lover lives, then take Little Miss History Lesson with you to get it back. Tara, I need you and Xander to stay here and see if you can find out who might need a Touchstone that will help them control Vampires. The customer may be innocent, but she may also have been coerced into purchasing it for someone else. In the meantime, I'm going to go on patrol a little early. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

She looks accusingly at me with that last before gathering up her bag and heading out the door. Everyone else goes about their duties, leaving me standing alone pondering what gods or devils I might have offended to warrant having these people as my only friends in the world.

* * *

My customer, an Elizabeth Snowden, lives in one of the posher suburbs of Sunnydale. Willow says nothing to me on the way to the residence, speaking only as we walk to the front door. "'Hide in plain sight' my Wiccan...I've read that story, you know. Eventually the cops figured out that the letter they wanted was sitting right there!"

I don't respond. I don't think Willow expects me to. She simply mumbles something like "Silly British person," then softens her face before she rings the doorbell. We wait a moment or two for someone to answer, then try again. A minute goes by, and we look into the windows. There are no lights on, but since it's still relatively light out that doesn't mean much.

"Hello!" I call out, knocking on the front window. "Ms. Snowden, are you there?" Still no answer. There, of course could be a million reasons why there's no response, the most obvious one being that there's no one home. I'm hoping that's the case, since I'd really hate to part with all the money I got for "Otto". Maybe it's just sitting on a shelf or in a breakfront or something. If that's the case, maybe we can just let Ms. Snowden be. "Maybe we should come back in the morning." I say.

Willow shakes her head. "We have to try and get the bat back." She says. "Look, if it turns out that this Elizabeth Snowden is just a compulsive knick-knack shopper we can just say there's something wrong with the thing--Like, maybe it has to be defanged or neutered or something--and then just take it back to the shop, de-charm it, and then send it back to her with no problems. I don't think we should wait to do it, though. Can you see anyone inside?"

I look in the window again. "Nobody."

Willow looks around furtively, then tests the front door. It's locked. She looks around again and mutters something in ancient Latin, then sparkling things float around the doorknob and we hear a click. Willow tries the door again, and it opens.

"So now we're breaking and entering?" I say as we let ourselves in.

"We didn't break anything." Willow says. "I unlocked the door...I just didn't use a key...or get permission to unlock it beforehand. Let's look around and see if we can find the bat."

We start in the living room and search around in the rapidly fading sunlight, afraid to turn on a light and attract attention to the house. I concentrate on tables and shelves while Willow checks the bookcase. It's a nice living room, tastefully but not ostentatiously done. Whoever this mystery woman really is she has style, which means she probably wouldn't wreck the decor by leaving a bat visible in this room. I get ready to say this to Willow, but she reads my mind.

"Let's dig in." She says. "We should check closets, trunks, hampers, anyplace she might have hidden it. We'd better check the upstairs."

No sooner does she utter this than a figure drops from out of nowhere, landing square on the coffee table in the center and splintering it. He's only a foot or so away from me, so I can hear him hiss quite clearly, smell the death on his breath, and see the hollow eyes, leathery face and big, gleaming canines.

The only thing that keeps me from screaming and "Going Potty" in my Victoria's Secrets is the lack of time. Immediately another vampire lands by the fireplace just behind Willow. Then another lands behind me, then another in front of Willow. I look up to the ceiling, wondering where the hell they're coming from, and see a halo of light form in the plaster and spit out another vampire, which lands on the couch by me. One more vampire comes down by Willow. We're both surrounded and separated from each other.

Beauty issues aside, I really hate not being a demon anymore at times like this. I mean, demons beat vampires, right? Like "rocks" blunt "scissors". But I'm not a demon, or a vampire slayer or a witch. I'm just "Anya", and "Anya" doesn't like feeling so scared and helpless!

The vampires close in on us, ready to strike any second. I'm so intent on mentally saying goodbye to my Xander I almost don't hear Willow chanting away as her vampires close in. I wince in dread as the vampire from the couch tenses his muscles and springs at me-

-and then I look on in shock as his face gets a massive electric jolt and he falls to the ground! Then the other two attack and are floored by the same charge!

"Anya!" Willow calls as she heads for the center of the room. "Come to me!" Her vampires are picking themselves up from the floor as she moves. I rush to meet her and a wall of electricity sparks between us as we get close. Then it parts and surrounds us as our attackers regroup.

"What did you do?" I ask. "Not that I'm complaining...!"

"Quickest spell I could think of." She says. "It won't last long. Let me concentrate!" We stand back to back and I keep my mouth shut as Willow chants some more. The vampires are right in our faces, working up the courage to lunge at us again. One swats at the electric field and it sparks! I try to convince myself that I'm seeing things, but his claws seemed to get closer than the other one's fangs!

"Hold onto me!" Willow says, and without hesitation I turn around and grab two big armfuls of her, scrunch close and close my eyes, hoping that whether she gets us out safe or we die, it'll all be over soon.

"I didn't mean that hard!" She mutters, but she hugs back with one arm and says a final Latin word, and suddenly I feel a tingle all over my body and suddenly feel like I'm falling through a vacuum. I realize immediately what's happening and I pray to the guy upstairs (and the one downstairs, just to cover my bases) that Willow's aim isn't off.

After a second or two I feel a solid floor under my feet, but I'm afraid to let go or open my eyes, worried that we missed whatever the witch was aiming for and we ended up someplace worse.

Then I hear his voice. "What happened?"

Xander? Dare I dream?

Then I hear her voice. "Are you all right?"

Tara? Did it work?

"Anya," Willow says, "you can let go. We're okay."

I open one eye and look around, seeing my store, partially. So I open the other eye and get confirmation. We're alive, in the Magic Box! Willow managed to transport us to safety! I look at her and grin like a schoolgirl. She looks back with her usual perky smile. Then I look at my Xander, the big gorgeous lug, and see him with an amused smile on his face.

Then I look at Tara, who's looking at me with her head cocked to the side and her eyebrow raised...and that's when I realize I haven't let go of Willow yet. I do so quickly, putting my hands behind my back. (I don't care what you say. Tara was a powerful witch long before Willow and I'd rather not find out what she knows the hard way because of any misunderstanding.)

"What happened?" Tara says, sounding more concerned than anything else.

"It looks like Ms. Snowden isn't so innocent." Willow says. "We sort of let ourselves into her house, and found it guarded by some very undead watchdogs."

"Six of them," I say, "and they just came out of the walls! It was very frightening!"

"Then I used a spell to surround us with lightning," Willow says, "and then I rushed through the spell to create a Merlin Tunnel to the shop!"

"So you think Anya's customer set a trap for anyone poking around to get the bat back?" Xander says.

"That's about the size of it." Willow says.

Xander looks at me and then shakes his finger in scolding motion. "You, young lady," he says to me, "are sooo getting a spanking when we get home...and not the fun kind either!"

Darn! I hate when it's not the fun kind!

"Well, we've managed to narrow down the search a little." Tara says as she leads us back to our little meeting area. The round table is buried in Giles's dusty old books, several of which are opened to pages describing the usual suspects. "We concentrated on demons and witches with mind-control abilities that have used undead minions in the past."

"We didn't waste any energy researching Vampires," Xander says, "because they wouldn't need the bat. They could control any vampires they created without it."

We gather around the books as Tara and Xander go through the list of nasties that have the potential to be our latest thorn-in-the-side. I tune the discourse out, as I usually do, since we most likely won't find out exactly who it is until he follows Buffy home and tries to put us all in pine boxes. One of the open books catches my eye, so I start to page through it. I stop at one page in particular, because the picture on it gives me a sensation of...what's the word? "Deja Vu."

"What was that, Anya?" Xander says. I didn't realize I'd spoken out loud.

"Deja Vu." I say again. "The feeling you've done something before...or, in this case, seen someone. The woman in this etching looks a little like Elizabeth Snowden, except with really bad hair and pale skin...and no fashion sense."

"Let me see that," Tara says, her eyes fixed on the page. "That's a book on Wiccan Cosmology." I hand her the book and she reads the text on the opposite page, her eyes going wide as she gets halfway down. A soft "Goddess..." escapes her lips.

"What's wrong?" Willow asks.

Tara looks at her girlfriend. "Th-this is Anibeth, Daughter of Hecate."

"What...you mean a witch?" Xander says.

"No, not just a witch. Apparently, as Hecate grew older she decided to spend less time watching over her followers on Earth, but didn't want to leave them completely unprotected. She wanted to create a sort of guardian witch to roam the world and make sure her people didn't stray from the path she'd set. She wanted to infuse the guardian with great power, but also wanted her to understand her charges, so she decided to mate with a mortal male and bear a half-human, half-wiccan child. That child grew to be Anibeth.

"Anibeth was trained to use her powers wisely and was given the gift of immortality upon her twenty-first birthday, and for a century afterward walked among Humanity, quietly watching over and guiding witches through lives filled with persecution and torment. But her human half became greedy and devious, and soon she was using her powers to deliver witches to their doom in places like Salem, warping the minds of ordinary humans into slaying witch practitioners and deactivating the charms that might have saved these innocent women from their deaths. It was her way of getting rid of potential competitors, preparing for the day when she would make a bid for ultimate power.

"Hecate had to return, to correct her mistake, but couldn't bring herself to kill her own child, so she bound Anibeth's powers, forcing her to live forever as an ordinary human, unable to reclaim her birthright as Daughter of the Goddess...until today!"

"W-Wait, wait..." Xander says. "What does that have to with the bat?"

"It's a Touchstone!" Willow says. "It can channel any mystical being's powers as long as those powers are within reach. Anibeth's powers are bound, Xander, but they're still there!"

"But I thought it was limited to controlling vampires!"

"She can add any charm to it that she wants, or remove that one and make the Touchstone a clean slate and use it to revive all her abilities, and it will always work for her because she's one of the most powerful mystical beings in the world!"

I'd been ignored up to that point, but then they all give me that look again. I despise that look!

Willow's voice drips venom as she speaks. "You sold a statue that can control vampires..."

"...to a corrupt Wiccan Demigoddess!!!" Tara finishes, unable to control her rage.

Under other circumstances it might be cute the way Tara and Willow complete each other's sentences, but right now I'm too filled with sorrow and regret to think about it. I didn't mean to give an evil demigoddess a way to get her powers back! I don't mean any harm at all! All I want to be is the best Human I can be, but sometimes it seems I can never be that here, with monsters and demons and the Hell Mouth and the slayer and her "Scoobies" and my own stupid personality getting in the way!

I'm in tears as I head for the front door. "Anya, wait!" Xander calls, and I hear him follow me. "Where are you going?"

The tone in his voice is welcome. I think he still loves me, even after this, but it's too late. "I'm going to find Buffy," I say, "and tell her what I've done and hope she can stop Anibeth, and then I'll let her slay me too if she wants!" I mean it, too. I'm a miserable failure as a human. Maybe I can get my old job back, or at least get reincarnated so that I can start this humanity thing from scratch and maybe do better next time. Of course I don't want to die, but if that's the only thing that can remedy this situation...

It must be that last bit of "will-to-live" that makes me jump when Buffy rushes in the door just as I open it. She closes it herself, locks it, and then bars my way. She's breathing heavy and her clothes are in a shambles, and she's carrying one of the little stakes she shoots from her crossbow and a sharp piece of two-by-four.

"Do NOT go out there!" She rasps in my face when she gets some breath. I'm more than willing to do what she says. I begin to speak but she holds up a finger and shushes me. "All I want to hear from you are the answers to two questions: Do ya have the bat? And if ya don't, do ya know how to stop the person who does?"

"Um...no and not yet." I say. She smiles as she closes her eyes and nods, but I don't think she's really happy with the answers.

"That's about what I figured." She says. "Well, we might want to work on that a little faster, 'cuz I met a whole busload of new friends in the graveyard, and they're just about two or three steps behind me."

"I'm so sorry, Buffy!" I say. "It's my fault! I admit it! I suck as a human being! I just wanted...wait a second. Two or three steps behind you? Then that means..."

"Uh-huh! We might wanna seek shelter!" With that she runs from the door and drags me into the back, getting us out of the way before the door and front window implode with a deafening crash! Soon vampires of all shapes and sizes are pouring into my store, fangs bared and ready to chow down! Once I'm in the back with the others, Buffy charges into them, throwing a flurry of kicks and punches and driving the stake and the two-by-four in and out of the creatures. She tries to keep up with the overflow, but it's no use. Soon she'll be overwhelmed, and some of them are already starting to close in on the back of the store.

"Buffy, get back here!" Willow yells. She's already gesturing with her hands, probably getting ready to create a big shield or throw a mystic bolt or something, but before she can do it another crash comes from the back of the store. More vampires are coming in from the alley! They close in from behind us, but Tara manages to get the jump on them! She uses telekinesis to throw books from the table at them, knocking bloodsuckers down with big texts on demons and warlocks and the like. Xander and I grab the heaviest things we can find, ready to start swinging in case the vampires get too close.

"Buffy, Now!!" Willow calls. Buffy breaks off and runs toward us just as a shimmering glow surrounds us. When it dissipates we're surrounded in a glowing, translucent force field. The vampires pound away at it, causing Willow strain that shows on her face. Buffy is looking around frantically, still poised to fight. Tara runs over to Willow.

"I didn't have time to build it properly," Willow rasps. "I need your help to maintain it."

Tara nods, but just as she's moving to clasp hands with Willow a bolt of lightning strikes down on her from the ceiling! She cries out in pain as the charge sends her flying into a display case!

Everyone looks up at the ceiling just as one of those halos of light appears in it. Slowly a figure emerges, first the feet, then the body, covered in a ghostly, tattered black gown. One of her arms is extended, holding the bat in the hand. "Otto" looks the same as he did before, except his eyes and the inside of his mouth are glowing a deep crimson.

Finally the head emerges. The figure is looking down at us as she descends. The face is ghastly pale, the hair is dead and lifeless, and eyes that once displayed tourist-like naivete now burned with an intense hatred, but even through all that I recognize the socialite I sold the bat to. Elizabeth Snowden has completed her transformation to Anibeth.

The witch demigoddess lands lightly on her feet, directly between Willow and Buffy. Buffy moves in for the kill immediately, but Anibeth turns on her. "Go play with your friends!" Anibeth says with a gesture that flings Buffy through the air and out of the shield. She lands in the midst of a horde of vampires, kicking and screaming.

Then the witch turns to Willow. "You," she says, "go lie with your wench!" With that, she catches Willow in some kind of mystical dark energy and flings her across the shop to land on top of Tara and the broken case. Of course, as Willow falls unconscious the shield collapses, and the vampires start to get closer.

Xander and I are left to face the horde. As the vampires close in, something snaps in Xander. I guess he thinks he can stop them by attacking Anibeth. He yells and advances, swinging a heavy candelabra like a club! My Knight in Shining Armor!

Of course, if he were really wearing armor he might have been able to weather the backhand that the witch sends him flying with. He lands on the meeting table, knocking it and the remaining books on it over. My poor baby ends up in a heap surrounded by the books, totally still.

Xander, Willow and Tara are down. Buffy is slowly making headway against the horde, but she's still buried in vampires. That means only I'm left to face Anibeth. I gulp nervously, realizing that I've never been in this position before. I close in on her, vampires breathing down my neck and others eyeing my neck from across the store. I wave the small medieval mace I hold in my hands, trying to look menacing. It's not working.

"Finally, the little storekeeper comes to defend her establishment." Anibeth says, with a tone of sarcasm I only tolerate from my man. "By the way, thanks loads for the conversation piece. I guarantee that once I'm done with it, everybody will be talking about it and me. In fact, I love it sooo much, I think I'll take the entire set!"

Then she starts to advance, and I don't have to be as smart as Giles to realize she's heading for the rest of the Touchstones. Her movement makes me back up, which puts me precariously within reach of her undead minions.

"You can't get away with this." I say. Isn't that what the hero is supposed to say? Remind the villain that good always triumphs in the end? She just chuckles at the notion.

"Can't I? I already have. You gave me the key. I've never seen anyone so perfectly greedy before in my life! It was so easy. All I had to do was wave money under your nose and you practically begged me to take the bat. One of your friends might have put up more of a fight."

I glance around the store when she mentions my friends. Xander still hasn't moved, worrying me sick. I can't really tell from where I'm standing, but I think Willow or Tara may be stirring. Buffy is now completely subdued, held still by vampires as the group comes ever closer to surrounding everyone.

"No," Anibeth continues, "they're probably no better than you. When you get past the book-learned witchcraft and fancy high-kicks, you're all just typical humans."

I freeze at that. All the time I've spent trying to be a typical human and when someone finally acknowledges it, she says it as an insult. Now I'm mad! I have to find some way to delay her until the others can revive or get free. I glance over at Xander again, and gasp as I see a vampire bending down to his throat. "No!" I yell, then turn my attention to Anibeth. "Spare him please! Spare them all!"

A gesture of her free hand stops the vampire, then Anibeth turns to me. "Why should I?"

I take a deep breath. "Spare them and I'll be your slave!" I say.

"Look around you. I have all the slaves I need right now." She says.

I straighten myself up and smile, ready to make the biggest pitch of all our lives. "Yes, this is true, but not one of them owns his own magic shop, I'll bet. I can be your supplier! I mean, you're already getting a great deal on the rest of the Touchstones, the whole set for five measly, insignificant human lives. There's probably plenty of other stuff here that you can use."

Anibeth glances around. "And if I need something you don't have?"

"There's nothing in the world that you can't get on Ebay." I say. "Just allow a couple of weeks for delivery."

"Anya, No!" Buffy says from captivity. I hope she's not too mad when I ignore her, but a silencing arm from a vampire behind her guarantees there won't be any more protests.

Anibeth glances back at her, then looks at me again, smiling. "I may have to kill her regardless, but if I find I can trust you, you may have the others' lives as...hmm, shall we call it a down payment? Then you may have the slayer--if you can convince her to be my minion as well."

It's not precisely what I was going for, but if all goes well it's a deal I can live with. I extend my hand. "Shake on it?"

"I have a better idea," Anibeth says as she comes very close. "Kneel before me, and swear your undying loyalty to me."

"Of course," I say as I bow my head. I knew she'd have me kneel. It's a bad guy thing. I hold the mace close to my chest as I go down on my right knee in front of her...

...then swing it as hard as I can at the arm holding the bat. The impact stuns her enough to make her cry out and drop it! I rush to grab it, scooping it up in an arm and getting away as fast as I can. I don't get very far before I'm looking right into the face of vampire!

"No!" I yell as his fangs close in. To my surprise he backs off, standing and looking at me as if waiting for something. Then I look around, and realize that the other vampires are waiting, too.

I was right! There's just enough "Anyanka" left in me to make the bat work!

I turn to face Buffy with a huge smile on my face, only to see the imposing figure of Anibeth standing over me! "I'll kill you with my bare hands!" She growls.

"Let Buffy go!" I say, still looking into the witch goddess's hate-filled eyes. I don't see it happen, but the vampires holding her must have done what I wanted, because a few seconds later I'm spattered with blood and the pointy end of Buffy's two-by-four is sticking out of Anibeth's chest. I'm more than a little disappointed that the witch doesn't fall over dead immediately afterward.

Anibeth's eyes are still locked on me when she recovers from the shock of the impaling. Her Goddess-given immortality probably means we'll have to find a more creative way to kill her. Unfortunately, I may be dead before we get the chance. She grabs me by the neck with both hands and slams me against a support. I feel her fingers tighten and squeeze. I don't dare try to pull her hands away, because that would mean letting go of the bat, and I have that held tight to my body so she can't take it back. I can't breathe and I'm starting to falter.

Buffy leaps at Anibeth and tries to tackle her, but the witch dodges at the last second. At least I get free, and I'm left hacking and coughing as she and Buffy trade kicks and punches. Anibeth isn't using any magic right now, but she's holding her own against Buffy as well as another slayer might.

As I recover, realize that there's another way to buy time. I still have the bat.

I look around at all of the vampires, standing around and waiting for something to do. I clear my throat, take a breath and say "Kill Anibeth."

With a raucous howl the vampires close in on Buffy and Anibeth. Buffy gets tossed unceremoniously out of the way. Anibeth never has a chance. They descend on her like locusts.

I rush over to check on Xander. Thank goodness! He's knocked out, but still breathing. Buffy gets up and rushes over to Willow and Tara. Willow is conscious, and Buffy helps her sit up and get off Tara.

"Willow!" I say. "Can you make them go someplace else, like you did with us?"

Willow is rubbing her head and grunting, but manages to say, "Give me the bat."

I gladly comply, and soon Willow is chanting again, fighting the pain she must be feeling. Soon a greenish energy courses through all the vampires, and with a flash of light they disappear, apparently taking Anibeth with them.

Buffy finally relaxes when they're all gone, and I go back to tending to Xander while Willow tries to revive Tara. "Just out of curiosity," I hear Buffy say, "where did you send them?"

"The Sahara Desert." Willow says as Tara starts to stir. "The vampires won't make it to safety before dawn there, and the desert sun should toast them all."

Xander groans and begins to rise. I'm so happy I pepper him with kisses as Buffy says "What about the demon or whatever she was?"

"Witch," Willow says. "Without the bat, she has no way to channel her powers. She won't be back for a while, and we can figure out how to kill her before she returns."

Tara's nature allowed her to survive the crash into the display case, but she'd been so cut up Willow insisted that she go to the emergency room. We told the police that we were accosted by some gang and found out that other people had made the same complaint. Apparently Anibeth had let her vampires loose all over town.

Buffy only left after making me promise to be more careful about what I sell in the future, and saying that now she'd have to work at the shop all the time to keep me honest. She also said she'd let me live...only if I promise to cut her some slack on the days when she's late.

Xander stayed with me for the night, helping me watch the store until it was time for him to get ready for work. He helped me clean up as much of the mess as possible and left me with a kiss on the forehead, promising to start working on the repairs as soon as he could.

Now I'm alone in the Magic Box again, watching the sunrise and the "early birds" starting to fill the street. Another day to practice being human, but no longer one to mourn not being a demon. I may have my differences with them, but Buffy and the others are all willing to help me when I screw up, like the friends they really are. Demons don't actually have friends, and consequences for screw-ups can be a lot tougher on one in that profession, total-oblivion tough. I don't really need that kind of pressure anymore. I have a tough enough time just being "Anya".

A gentleman with a briefcase walks slowly into the opening where the door used to be. "I'm sorry, we're closed." I say.

"Oh, right, of course. " He says. "Usually I go by too early to come in, and I don't really have a chance to visit during the day, but I know my wife loves stuff like this and I thought I might find something interesting for her birthday. Will you be open later?"

"Probably not." I say. "Repairs, you understand."

"Oh yes, of course. Say...that's an interesting piece. How much are you asking for it?"

He's pointing toward me, and then I realize I'm still holding "Otto". "I'm sorry. This isn't for sale."

"Oh, surely we can bargain." He says.

It's hard to fight the old instincts, but I do anyway. "Sorry. I just couldn't part with it."

"I understand. Well, I have time. I'll try back when you're up and running again." With that he leaves, and I wonder how much it would cost to put a vault in the basement.

Final Author's Note: Grrr! Arrgh!


End file.
